His Beautiful Face
by Oh SqueegeeMan
Summary: Mark is surprised by a lost love and even more surprised by what he has to tell him. Old feelings return, but can they rekindle something so long faded or will it be more complicated than before? MARK POV. Sequal.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I don't think it's completely necessary to read the first one, but it's suggested, if you read this first chapter and like it. I do think that this one will be much better, since my writing skills have improved over the last year, at least I think so. I hope so.

I'm also going to try something new. I saw a fic like this, and I found the style interesting. I'm going to place some lyrics in the beginning that relate to the story. I hope you don't find this annoying, but I liked it, and I hope you do too. And I'm going to be too lazy to do this every time so- _I don't own any of this music, and obviously don't own rent_. The end.

Oh, and if you find the lyrics lame, or the music style, sorry. Just ignore it. Hope you like though. Thanks for reading. And this will be the longest author's note. I promise. Thanks again.

* * *

_You took the breath right out of me,  
and left a whole where my heart should be._

-Breath.Breaking Benjamin.

* * *

It was pouring out. Thunder boomed loudly just before bright flashes of lightening. This was all visible from my seat next to the window that I sat on on nights like this. It was nice to watch. _Interesting_. I'd count the seconds after the lightening struck until the thunder sounded. I learned when I was a child that that was supposed to be the amount of miles the lightening was from me. It was nice just to sit here, and think about stuff like that, think about my childhood.

It was a happy time for me. My parents actually talked then, and I enjoyed having a younger brother. It was so much easier. You didn't have to worry about bills, paying for school, paying for food, and you could just let yourself go and think. No judgments.

Then it quickly faded and your teenage years approached. They're good for a while. Pretty dramatic though, but what can you expect from hormonal teens? And then when you get your first love, there is so much happiness that your whole body tingles. But a majority of those relationships end up not working, anyways. My first love was in that category.

I met Roger during my junior year in my Chemistry class. It'd be an understatement if I said that was my favorite class. For so long I just sat there, staring at the back of his head, fantasizing. And then one day I didn't have to fantasize anymore. Everything was perfect.

It was sort of like the thunder storm. The thunder was like our fights, the lightening like our love. The rain was the world, always going as the storm, as our relationship, went on, but there was thunder occasionally. Thunder was always scary to me as a child, made me jump. I'd hide under my blankets. Our fights were the scariest, but there was no where to hide.

But it all evened out eventually. Sometimes there were many many seconds until the lightening came, but it always did. Our love was like the lightening; hot and bright; exhilarating.

But then one day, there was so much thunder, so much pain, that it couldn't work anymore. I counted and counted for the lightening to strike, but the rain let up, and the thunderstorm was over. I didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing. We need thunder storms for our environment to grow, which was good, but then the thunderstorms quit coming, there was a drought, and everything died.

I died.

I know we were young. You could call it stupid puppy-love. But that doesn't mean that those feelings weren't true, if I knew them at all. Everything I felt, everything I said, was what I thought was right. And I had feelings, strong feelings, and I was just supposed to give them up.

As you can probably tell, I couldn't. Even know, five years later, I still think about it. I don't know if that's good or bad either. It makes me happy, to remember what I felt then. But then I think about how it ended, how Roger just wanted an end, and it crushes me to say, that I wanted one too.

I wish I could say that it worked out for the best. I wish I could say that I'm as happy as ever, having Maureen for a girl friend. I wish I could say I have everything I ever wanted. ...I wish I could say all that.

"Pookie, you coming to bed?" I heard Maureen call. I turned around to see her standing at our bedroom door. She had those skimpy shorts on that showed too much leg and that too see-through tank-top. She only wore that sometimes. I knew what she wanted tonight.

It wasn't my favorite, making love to Maureen. If you could even call it that. It felt more of an obligation as her boyfriend. Don't get me wrong, I love being her boyfriend. It's just... I preferred something different. It felt good, and she was great, it was just not exactly what I was looking for in a relationship.

"I'll be there in a minute," I said. A smile surfaced on her face and she scurried into the bedroom, obviously jumping onto the bed waiting for me.

I sipped the rest of my coffee down that I had been drinking while watching the storm. It was cold by now, not very good. So I threw it in the sink, along with a other dirty dishes, and I walked into our shared bedroom, away from the storm.

Maureen took control, as she most of the time did, and soon enough I was sleeping. It was strange that I slept so well. It could have been because of the I was exhausted, but for some reason, I had a feeling it was because of the thunderstorm.

"Marky," Maureen said, her voice waking me from the sleep. "Mark, get up!" I sat up in bed, grabbing my glasses and putting them on my face. "Someone is at the door. Who could it be?" she asked, her voice panicky. I sat up, heading out of our room to go answer it. "Mark. Stop! You don't know who it is. What if it's some sort of murderer?"

I gave sigh/yawn. "You're such a drama queen. I'll be right back," I said softly, still half asleep. When I reached the door, I gave a call,"Who is it?" I asked. There was no answer. "Hello?" Still no answer.

Assuming it was Collins and Angel coming over for one of there surprise visits, I pulled open the door. There, in the doorway, was my worst nightmare. Thousands of emotions hit me at once and my body tensed immediately. My jaw clenched as I ground my teeth together. Unable to control them, my hands balled up into fists. I was pissed.

My heart stopped and so did my breathing. All I could seem to do was stand there and stare. I mean, what else was there to do? How would someone act in a situation like that? After all of these years, he was here, standing in my doorway and I had no idea how to react.

It hurt, a bit, to see him, so I knew that this wasn't going to be good. That gut feeling in my stomach was evident and if I was able to speak, I would've told him to leave, but I couldn't. No noise would come when I opened my mouth. And I would've pushed him away, but I couldn't move either, so I kept standing there, unsure of what to do.

So, all I could do was stare. He looked pretty much the same, after all these years. His hair was still long, blond, yet not as well kept as it was before. And his body still seemed built, like it was before, but at the same time he seemed weak. And his once tan skin, was a little paler now. It was strange to see him like this; the same, yet so different.

And one more thing I noticed was so extremely different. His bright, piercing green eyes were gone. In their place were just pale ones which huge black bags underneath. The eyes that I loved so much had vanished, along with his smile.

But his face, his face still so beautiful.

Now he was standing there, sad, right out of the pouring rain. Every bit of him was soaked, along with the very little luggage he had. All he carried was a small, duffel bag, wrapped around his shoulder. He seemed to have many layers of clothes on to keep the cold away, but he was soaked, so none of that mattered. His body was shaking uncontrollably.

Before I knew that I was even doing it, I grabbed his hand, and pulled him into me. It wasn't much of a touch, and it was cold, but it felt so right. Every piece of me that had ever felt terror or pain, was filled with something different. It wasn't quite happiness, for these were not the best of circumstances and completely random, but it seemed much like relief. After all this time, was I still hoping Roger was okay?

It didn't matter what I felt for him, though. I was with Maureen now and was in love with her. Well... at least I was with her. So, Roger couldn't not ruin that. But it didn't matter now. Maureen was not here, and I was doing nothing wrong. Just holding, and comforting a friend... a friend that I had once been in love with... and maybe still was.

"You must be freezing," I said, holding him tighter, but having no intention of leaving to get warm clothes. If I could have been there forever, I would have.

But he was still shaking, and extremely cold, so I pulled him by the hand into our messy bathroom. I picked up the towels that were thrown about the floor, and turned on the shower. It took a while for the water to heat up, but it finally did. But Roger made no motion to get in. He just stared at me with tears slowly streaming down his face.

"Come on. We need to get you in the shower before you freeze to death," I said to him. Still he did not move. Obviously he didn't feel comfortable changing in front of me. If felt strange for me for him to feel that way (we had never been through anything like that before), but I reminded myself that this was not before; it was now. "Should I?" I asked, making my way out the door.

"No," he said quickly, holding his hand out. His voice was soft, but raw a bit, unlike it was before. But it was still the sweet voice that I loved, the voice that sang to me.

Quickly, I made my way to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards me. "Are you okay?" I asked softly, hoping the answer was "yes". But I felt him shake his head "no", and I knew that I needed to help him. "Here. Let me help," I said, turning him around to pull off his jacket. "Lift up your arms." And I pulled his shirt over his head. His shoes, then his pants. I left on his boxers, not wanting to violate him, if he was uncomfortable. "Just take a shower, and I'll make a nice bed on the couch for you." He nodded a bit, and I headed out.

"Mark," he said, before I could walk out the door. I turned around instantly, and walked back to his side. He held his arms out a bit, and I held mine out too, pulling him into me, holding his shaking body tightly. I couldn't let him stand here freezing, so I sighed a bit, and let my hand trail down his arms so our fingers were entwined.

He winced for a second, and I let go quickly. I moved my eyes down his arms and saw something on his wrists. There were slight cut marks, bruised and raw, obviously panifully. I looked up at him and stared at him confused. Did he do that to himself? He pulled his arms away and turned his head. He was ashamed. "Maybe you should just get into the shower," I told him, and walked away, not wanting to hurt or embarrass him any longer.

I'm not sure why, but I sat on the couch, even after I made Roger's bed. Was it that I was waiting for him to get out? I'm not sure. But I sat there, until I heard the water turn off from the shower. I'm not sure how much time had past, but soon Roger was out, with a towel around his waist.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. He was naked, a nice sight, but he did need some clothes. "Clothes, right. I'll get you some." I snuck my way into the bedroom. It was my bedroom, shared with Maureen of course, but I never felt quite comfortable there. So I took a pair of boxers and a t-shirt from my top drawer, and left quietly. "I hope they'll work," I said, handing him the clothes.

He just looked at me and nodded his head. Then he went into the bathroom, put his clothes on, and minutes later he was sitting next to me. I wasn't sure what was wrong and what was right, so I did what felt okay. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and let him cry into me.

I thought for a while, about how this was so new, but so amazingly comfortable and right. When he left, I barely survived. My heart seemed to break, but it just kept beating, and even if I didn't want to, I went on breathing, went on living. And now that he was here, my heart seemed whole, and healthy again.

He didn't say anything, as I hushed him to sleep. My hand glided over his hair, which was still wet from the shower. His sobs became softer and softer, until there were no more, and he had finally cried himself to sleep. Something told me, that if I left him, it would be bad, so I layed beside him on our way too small and way too ratted couch, and slept through the night.

**-So you like it? I heart reviews and I'd love to know what you think. Thank you. And I hope this wasn't lame. I liked it for the most part, but I was ify on some things. I ended up rewriting it half a dozen times, so now I've just given up, and I'm going to give you what I liked and hope you do you. Thanks again! **


	2. Chapter 2

_And I'm praying that we will see,  
Something there in between.  
Then and there,  
__that exceeds all we can dream._

-So I Thought.Flyleaf.

* * *

My body trembled under his. The sweet scent of his breath filled my nose and throat as I breathed him in. The taste of his lips on mine sent sensations down my spine as I pulled him closer and closer into me. I held him tight, savoring this moment, for this could be the last time that this ever happened. I found myself deep in a sweet fit of passion, as our bodies entwined as one. _Perfection. _

This was the way it was meant to be.

I woke up and my heart was speeding with intensity. My entire body seemed to be filled with sweat. I was hot, a little too hot, and I turned to see if Roger noticed my reaction to my dream. I silently thanked God that he was still sleeping soundly, his snores soft, but evident.

I stared at him, wondering if he was feeling the same way I was, even if I didn't really know exactly how I was feeling. Staring at him like this just brought so many memories back, bad, and obviously with my dream, good ones. Emotions just hit me all at once, too many of them.

I could be happy, so happy. The man that I had missed for so long was laying next to me and we had spent the night together. But I could be mad, even furious. Why was he here after so long with no explanation? And its pretty easy to say that I never really got over how it ended.

Then a new set of feelings hit me. Was he still doing all those things? A chill settled itself down my spine as I pondered that question. The drugs made him change before. Was that part of this random visit? I shook my head, trying to shake the thought out, and I realized I had no idea why he came here last night. He hadn't said a thing.

I moved to the floor, sitting next to the couch still. I wanted to make more room for him, but still be there when he woke up. He sighed a bit, and I thought for sure that he was awake. But he just turned towards me and threw his hand over his eyes, blocking out the light, sighing and sleeping.

That's when I noticed the cuts again and all the questions from the night before came over me again. Why would he do something like that to himself? I studied them closer, noticing how deep they really were. There were old ones, scars now, and fresh pink ones, soft and bruised. How long ago had he done that?

Roger sighed once more, and turned away from me, as if he knew what I was looking at. He berried his head in the pillow, his snoring getting deeper.

I took a sigh and stood up, questions, fears, and hopes filling my brain. All of this seemed too much too soon. One day, I was just sitting here moving on with my life with my girlfriend at my side. Then, all of a sudden, I was drowning in all these emotions from my past. What did all this mean? Was something going to change? Was Roger here to make a difference in my life?

It didn't matter. He couldn't do that. I was in a relationship now. And as if on cue, Maureen walked out the bedroom. She smiled at me and then looked down to see who was resting on the couch. She stared for a moment, a confused look on her face, but then turned up to me with a questioning look. "What's going on?" she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, but when that didn't satisfy her curiosity, I said, "That's who was at the door last night." It was simply, not really an explanation, but what was I supposed to say?

She didn't reply, just walked toward the kitchen. The coffee was already boiling so she took a cup... which also meant she saw us laying together when she turned it on in the first place. _Shit. _I took one more glance at Roger to makes sure he was still sleeping, then walked to her side.

She was sitting on the stool next to our table, facing away from me. I sat down next to her and tried to look her in the face. She just turned away, obviously not wanting to see me. I took a sigh and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. "What's wrong?" I asked, as if it wasn't obvious. She was angry. She was jealous.

When we were younger she always seemed to have a thing against Roger. She was one of my closest friends and she hated how he seemed to treat me so bad. He never really enjoyed her either. They were just opposites and, I guess, in this case, opposites didn't attracted.

She turned to me with a blank face and shook her head. "Is that who I think it is?" she asked, hurt and angry. Her big brown eyes focused on mine and I could tell that she could see right through me and she knew who it was. She just wanted me to say it.

"It's Roger," I told her. It was the first time I had said his name out loud and it made me wince. She knew that. She knew how he hurt me and she wanted to play that game.

"Exactly," she told me, realizing how I had been hurt by saying it. Maureen swallowed hard. "Why is he here?" she questioned. I was silent. I didn't know the answer. "Why?" she asked again, raising her voice.

I sighed. "I don't know. He just came here last night and didn't say anything," I answered truthfully, really wondering the same thing in my head.

She stood up and walked away from me. What was her problem? Could it really be that big of a deal? She was always getting upset over nothing, but was this really nothing? I had no idea. But she was a drama queen. I took a deep breath, unsure of where this was going, and followed her into the bedroom.

She slumped on the bed, hurt. I sat next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders again like I did before and just like before, she turned away. "What's the problem here?" I asked, confused, and trying to make things better.

"So he didn't say anything, but you ended up sleeping with him," she said. I just rolled my eyes and cleared my throat to talk, but before I could say anything, she shot in again. "Don't even say you didn't either. I saw you laying with him," she went on.

She was stubborn and she wasn't going to let this go and I couldn't lie. I was laying with him. "Nothing happened, though," I told her truthfully, not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing for myself. "It's just, he was crying so I was trying to comfort him," I explained hoping she would get over this.

She pushed my arm away from over her shoulder and looked me straight in the eyes again. "Why would you comfort him? He never did that for you. Never. He broke your heart. He can't make up for that now," she told. Everything she said was true, but I couldn't help but tell myself I did the right thing. Even if I did hate him for hurting me, there was still that part of me that didn't want him to feel that way either.

"Maureen, what is this about? First you're mad because I slept out there, now you're mad that he's here. What are you really angry about?" I asked, not really wanting to hear the answer. A fight wasn't exactly what I wanted right now. I actually didn't even want to be in this room anymore. The living room seemed like a haven at this moment.

"What are you trying to accomplish with him here?" she asked, ignoring my question entirely.

I stared at her blankly. "What is your problem?" I asked, a little too loudly. I was almost screaming now. Why was she being like this?

"You can't change the past so stop trying," she told me, standing. She reached into our shared dresser and pulled out some clothes. "I'm going to get ready. I have class soon," she said, and then walked away to the bathroom.

A good boyfriend probably would've chased her down and apologized. I just slumped down on the bed, sighing. Why did everything have to be so complicated all of a sudden? I shook my head trying to clear it, then walked out into the living room, but something was different. I looked all around, but Roger wasn't laying on the couch anymore, his little bag of luggage he brought, gone.

My heart sunk a bit as I wondered where and why he had gone.

I peered into the kitchen and walked down the hallways looking and wondering where he could have wandered off too. Maybe he didn't even wander off. Maybe he just left. Could he have heard what Maureen had said about him and me? I moved out the door and peered into the hallways and stair cases. He was no where in sight.

I walked back into the house. Maureen was standing there, dressed and ready to leave. "Your boyfriend leave?" she asked, bluntly.

I shook my head and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry," I told her, even though I wasn't exactly sure what I should be sorry for. I felt I did nothing wrong. "I love you," I also told her, confused by the use of those words. They were small words, pretty simple, but held so much meaning, meaning I wasn't sure I knew at this moment... at least for her.

"I love you, too. But I have to go. Class," she said sighing. "You?" she asked.

I nodded my head. "Yeah. In about an hour," I told her, although I had no idea what time it was. I just need some excuse to take a shower. Alone time would be nice. Maureen wouldn't be here, being mad about me having Roger here, after all he was gone. So I kissed her on the cheek and walked into the bathroom.

That was when I noticed Roger's clothes were still here, wet and soaking on the towel bar. He would need those eventually. He'd have to come back and get them or we'd have to meet up so I could give them to him. Maybe we'd end up talking again, or talking at all, since we hadn't had much of a conversation last night.

I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower. The water was cold; I was used to that. Our apartment didn't have the best pipes or heating. But none of that mattered. A giant smile was on my face anyways as I thought about seeing Roger again.

But then I realized something. I had no idea where he went. I haven't known for the past five years. He could be anywhere. New York was a big city with too many people to even begin to find him and I was pretty sure that he wasn't the only Roger Davis in the phone book. Well, would he even be in the phone book? He probably didn't have a home if he needed to crash here last night.

I sighed. There was no way I was going to find him.

The day went on. I found myself speeding my way too class on my bike. I was already twenty minutes late. Too much time in the shower was spent thinking about Roger and wondering. I had forget all together that I had somewhere to be, but it didn't really matter. It wasn't going to make me happy if it wasn't somewhere with him.

Was it bad to say that, after all these years? I mean, we spent one night together, and not even _together _in any certain way. Was that too little of a time? And Maureen was my girlfriend now. I couldn't go wishing that I was with someone else when I had a perfectly reasonable person to be with right now.

Well, the truth was, she did drive me crazy sometimes. She was too over dramatic, a definite procrastinator, and a bit of a flirt. Not exactly the kinds of things I look for in a person that I want to be in a relationship with. But the real question was, was Roger any better than that?

He was also a procrastinator; one of my big pet peeves. But he was farely opposite of dramatic. Maybe if too much of the opposite; too laid back even. And there was the big thing: the drugs. From all this time that I've known Maureen I don't think she's ever tried anything. Maybe pot, but I've done that from time to time now, especially when I get down which would happen a lot after Roger left. But Maureen never did anything that bad, which I was proud of. She was a good person, but did all those things make Roger a bad person?

He was loving when he needed to be, unconditionally sweet when we were together, and he seemed to be everything I wasn't. He was perfect and everything I was looking for. _Was looking for. _What do I want now? I had no idea.

Finally I had reached the campus. As fast as I could, I locked my bicycle to the bike rack and rushed inside. My professor had obviously already began with the days lesson, as I walked in the door. Several people turned to see me walk in, as quietly as possible. It didn't exactly work if they were staring at me.

My normal seat was in the front, just where the proffesor could see me. After all, I always tried my best to learn. It was something to focus on. But instead of moving to that seat as usual, I slumped in the back, straining my ears to listen to his voice teach.

Simply said, I couldn't exactly do that. Too much was on my mind now. Well, Roger was. There was something about the feeling I got when he was there, with me, me holding him tightly, calming him done. It was deep inside, maybe berried, but it was nice, sweet. Something that I had maybe been missing all this time.

Through the rest of the time that class went on, my every thought was circled around Roger. Why? I didn't know. But it wasn't exactly a bad thing. And sure enough, when it was over, everyone was gone before I could realize. Then I heard a voice say my name. "Mr. Cohen." I looked up to see the professor staring at me.

"I didn't even know you knew my name," I told him, because I truly had nothing to say. He must already think I'm crazy for spacing on his whole lesson when exams were coming up soon, and on top of that, I had forgotten to leave. I stood up slowly as he just stared at me. "I'm sorry. I should probably go," I told him, while heading on my way out.

"I know your name," he said before I could walk out the door, "Because you are an exceptional student," he finished. I stared at him confused. I hadn't realized that I was actually any good at what I was doing. Filming just came natural.

"Thank you," I said, still unsure of what to say.

"This better be your only mess up," he told me, and it was as if he knew everything I had done last night, not just me basically missing his class. Everything _must've _been a mess up anyway. This wasn't good. Not for me. Not for Maureen and I's relationship. I couldn't see Roger again. I couldn't.

"It will be," I promised and headed home.

There was something about that night, though, as I lay in bed, Maureen softly snoring next to me. This was so different from then. I was doing the same thing, sleeping with someone I cared about, but for some reason, last night was so much better than this. Was it the relief of knowing that Roger was back, or was it a true to heart feeling? I had no idea.

But for some reason, I fell asleep, dreaming about Roger's beautiful face.

**This was short, boring, I know. And there was no Roger in it, so obviously bad. I just needed to build a base for it all, ya know? So thank you for reading this, and sticking with it all. And the reviews really do mean a lot to me. And if I read this later, and don't like it, possible rewrite, but I highly doubt it. I actually originally wrote this chapter with Collins instead of Maureen, but I'll bring him and Angel into later chapters sometime. **

**Lyrics. Okay, Flyleaf: Christian band. So, idk. But I read the lyrics, and I figure they related to Mark's dream about wanting Roger and loving him and just so much more than that, and stuff. So hopefully they don't sound bad. Sorry, long author's note again. I suck xD**

**Next chapter: Mark gets a call from Roger and they decide to meet up. **


	3. Chapter 3

_Touch with frustrated lips, love is like starting over.  
With every step, engraving the problems of memories._

-Cast it Out.Ten Years.

* * *

I awoke again, in a heated sweat. The dream from the other night filled my mind again, with more intensity. I turned to not see Roger laying next to me this time, which put a little disappointment in me. Maureen was sleeping soundly, thankfully not noticing my sudden change in mood.

It wasn't like I had never felt like this before. Maureen had caused dreams similar to this, but for some reason, this all seemed so new to me. The feelings were different this time. Better, if possible. It was like he was actually there, and that was the best feeling of all.

When Roger was with me, it all seemed so perfect. As cliche as that sounds, it's so true. My heart fluttered and he was the only thing I could see. He was all I wanted to see. And it wasn't that he was beautiful, although he was to the extreme, but everything about him made me tingle. He knew the way to make me laugh and the perfect things to say when I was having a bad day. He knew _me_.

But it had been five years. He couldn't possibly know me anymore. I had changed after all these years. I wasn't that pathetic loser anymore. I was in control of myself. There was an amazing girlfriend in my life. I was happy without him. I could survive without him...almost.

A bit of light shone through the bedroom window and I figured I would get up. I didn't bother changing, for the whole reason that I wasn't going anywhere. Next class wasn't until tomorrow, and frankly, I didn't care who else saw me in my boxers. The only people that ever came over were Collins and Angel, pretty much, and they've seen me a hundred times.

Slowly, still half asleep, I made my way into the kitchen, my dream still flooding my mind, searching for some coffee. Oddly enough, the coffee pot was already on, and I was curious to whom did that. After I poured myself a cup, adding sugar and creamer, I turned to see Collins walking out of the bathroom.

"Is there a reason you're here at..." I trailed off. I had no idea what time it was and I was too lazy to walk into the bedroom and look.

"It's about nine," he told me with a smile. "And Angel decided to go shopping today with some friends, so I was out of there. Shopping and girls are a bad combination," he said, sitting next to me, enjoying some coffee. "So," he started again, "Was it good?"

I stared at him blankly. It was as if he had read my mind and Roger was still in it. "I have no idea what you're talking about," I told him.

He chuckled at me. "You and Roger, was it good?" he repeated and this time I understood completely.

"Who told you?" I asked instantly embarrassed.

He just laughed as my cheeks flushed red. "Ha! So, it was good!" he stated, which was totally wrong. We hadn't done anything like what he was talking about for real. But doing the little that we did, that was good. But I couldn't let him know that. He was my best friend, but I couldn't let Maureen find out I liked it in anyway. She'd be hurt, and probably kill me.

I glared at him then. "We didn't do _anything_. I swear to God," I insisted. How many times was I going to have to tell people that? "And you know how Maureen exaggerates," I added, because it was obvious that she told him. Whenever she was in some sort of fight with me, she went to Collins. They were close friends by now, being so much alike and all.

"True," he replied, but then his smile went away and there was a seriousness about him. "Is that a bad thing, though? That nothing happened, I mean," he questioned. I had asked myself the same thing yesterday, and I still had no answer. I just shrugged my shoulders. "I understand how those feelings could be there," he went on, "But don't drag Maureen into it all and don't do anything stupid."

And I knew exactly what he meant by stupid: cheating. If I did something like that to her, someone I truly cared about, I don't know if I could live with myself. She'd been hurt before, by stupid guys with things like that. I couldn't put her through something like that again.

"I know," I told him shaking my head. And that was the last of that conversation. We went on, talking about this and that and losing the seriousness. We joked about Angel and her friends shopping: there goes Collins salary, and the way Maureen's hair was sure to look when she woke up: a disaster. I never understood how someone could have such long hair.

The day went on a bit. Eventually Maureen woke up, her hair crazy before she went into the shower. Collins left because by that time, Angel was surely done shopping. I slumped on the couch, turning on a random station on the radio, hoping the music wasn't crappy.

I just lay there for a while, thinking about this and that not even paying any attention to the music. I truly didn't even know why I turned the radio on. I wasn't sure how much time passed, but after a while, the phone began to ring. Maureen was in the shower, so I walked over and answered it. "Hello?" I asked, wondering who it could be, and praying it wasn't my parents.

"Mark," I heard the voice on the other line say and my heart skipped a beat. This was what I was waiting for. I didn't even have to ask who that was. That voice I could recognize anywhere. That sweet, amazing voice.

"Roger," I said back, softly, a smile on my face.

"Um..." I heard him begin, and then there was a pause. "Well... I just... I wanted to say... It's just..." How long was this stuttering going to go on? Not long, because he finally ended his sentence with a, "I'm really sorry."

That thought never crossed my mind. He had absolutely nothing to be sorry about. If he was hurt or crying, I was going to help. "Don't be," I told him truthfully. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel any worse than he obviously already did.

"Well I am. I shouldn't have just come over unannounced like that. It was pretty rude," he told me, his voice quickly trailing over the words. It was nice though, being the first time he actually spoke more than two words to me in the past five years after breaking my heart.

"It's really not a big deal," I told him truthfully.

"Okay," he said softly, and then there was an awkward pause. You know, one of those silences that comes in when you're talking to an ex and it was a bad break up; there isn't much to be said. I wanted to say something though, but there was too much to say, too much to_ ask, _and I didn't know where to begin. So, I sat there, silent. "I should get going," he said, and there was no way I was letting that happen.

"Wait," I told him, although I really had nothing to say. Then something hit me. "Your clothes. They're still here," I told him. He most likely wanted them back and I'd give any excuse to see him again. Was that bad to say?

"Oh yeah," he said. "And I have yours too. I should probably give them to you sometime," he went on, but didn't start a conversation about meeting up, so I was forced to.

"Maybe we could meet at the Life Cafe," I choked out, sounding a little too desperate. "To exchange our clothes, I mean," I added to verify myself. I didn't want to sound lame or overly excited that we saw each other again after so long. I mean, he probably didn't even care. ...It hurt a bit to realize that.

He paused for a long time. I almost thought that he hung up the phone, but then he voice came through. "I'm free today," he told me. Today? That was more than perfect. I had no school. No work. And Maureen would be gone soon enough so she wouldn't throw a fit that I was leaving to see him. It seemed perfect.

"Yeah. That's fine. What time?" I asked, hoping that it was as soon as possible.

"Um.. Does noon sound okay?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"Perfect," I told him for so many reasons. That wasn't too long a wait, but even if it were, I would wait forever to see him. A tinge of guilt hit me as I thought that. I never felt that way about Maureen when I probably should have. I mean, she's my girlfriend.

"Alright. Well, I should go. I'll meet you there," he told me.

"Sounds good. See you," I replied, sad that our conversation was so short. But at least we'd have some time to catch up at the Life. Then something hit me. What if he didn't want to catch up? I mean, this was about our clothes, wasn't it? That hurt a bit to think about too.

Just before I was about to hang up the phone, I heard Roger say my name. Quickly, I threw the phone to my ear. "Yeah?" I asked, hoping for the best and maybe more catch up time.

"Are you listening to Barry Manilow?" he asked. I opened my ears and silently damned myself. I was. Roger probably thought I was crazy. Then he started laughing, an amazing sound. I couldn't help but join in. "You never fail to amuse me," he said through his laughter, and I just laughed back. "I should probably go though. See you later," he said, and I heard the dial tone.

It was nice. That was the only normal kind of conversation we had the whole time. It was seemed so good to have that. At first it was so awkward, distant, and that little bit at the end was so normal, comfortable. Why was something so simple making me so happy?

Just as I was hanging up the phone, Maureen was standing in the bathroom doorway. "Who was that?" she asked, and I didn't know what to say. I began to wonder how long she had been there and if I could get away with saying it was the wrong number. If I told her it was Roger, she'd most likely get mad.

"Um. Just a wrong number," I told her, praying to God that she wouldn't catch me in a lie.

"Alright. Well, I better be getting to class," she told me, and softly kissed my lips. It was a nice kiss, sweet, but so different than what I remember Roger's were like. Not as amazing. Not like I truly wanted. "I love you," she said with a smile, staring into my eyes.

I smiled my best fake smile back at her. "Love you too." Then she left.

And as if I was going to meet Roger in a second, I rushed into the bedroom. My heart thudded uncontrollably as I thought about what was coming up. It wasn't much, just a meeting between old friends... old lovers. Could something blossom from that? Did I want something to?

No, of course I didn't. Collins and I had just had this conversation and there was no way that I would hurt Maureen like that. I cared too much about her even if I wasn't in love with her. Besides, what did Roger really have to offer? Obviously no place to stay, no money if he coulnd't've just stayed at a hotel. It seemed like nothing.

But maybe those places didn't matter. He could've have come to my place because he needed me, and not my stuff. But how would I know if that was true or not. Something inside of me said that it was. Why else would he need me with him in the bathroom and need me to sleep with him, to comfort him. It was nice to realize that he needed me because maybe I needed him too.

I got into the cold shower still wondering about everything. That seemed like the only thing I had been doing these days, wondering. There was so much to wonder about. All my emotions had gone crazy the past few days and I had no idea how I was supposed to control them when I didn't even really know what they were. Fear? Lust? Love? Hope?

Finally I got out of the shower and threw some clothes on. Well, maybe not threw since it took me about a half an hour to figure out what I was going to wear. I wasn't sure why I cared so much, but then again, why wouldn't I? The other night I was so unprepared for what was happening and I had just woken up from my sleep. I must've looked like a nightmare. But then again, so did Roger.

He was beautiful, of course, but there was so much more than just that. Images of the scars ran through my mind again and gave me more to wonder about. Then so did his eyes and how they were different. In them was so much more than pain, it seemed as if he was going to fall over and die that minute, and he basically did with his breakdown. What was the about anyways? Why had he been so sad? I mentally made a list of questions to ask him when we met up.

The Life Cafe was a while to walk from my house so I began walking soon after that. I had more than enough time to get there and all, I just wanted to get there. It would make this all seem so real and it wouldn't be too long until I saw Roger. After all, that's what I had been waiting for for five years now. I'm not sure why I was waiting, after all, I had Maureen, but I was and it makes me happy to realize that I've waited my time.

I opened the door and instantly the host stared at me. He wasn't exactly my best friend since I never seemed to pay for anything there; I was pretty much dirt broke. The little money that I could scrounge up working at the local Starbucks was spent on rent and I also had to pay my school bills. I would've worked more, but school was my ultimate priority. I always loved to learn.

Then I began to think about how Roger was about the whole school thing. Definitely not a big fan. Did he ever end up going to college? I did remember him graduating, which kind of seemed like a surprise to me. Roger just seemed too much of a procrastinator and school definitally wasn't his first choice of things to do. Then I got angry, drugs was his first choice, even before me.

It hurt to think that although it happened so long ago. I should be over that by now, but that's obviously not true. How lame was I for saying that?

Time passed and I wasn't exactly how long it had been, I just knew that I was bored out of my mind and I had been here for more than an hour. I walked up to the host that hated me and asked what the time was. He just kind of stared at me with annoyed face. "12:30," he said finally.

Of course. Why did I expect anything different from Roger? Being late was one of his expirtese and I knew that, so why was I so mad? I sat down anyways, thinking that he better be here soon or I was going to kill him. Another half hour past and as much as I didn't want, I got up and started to leave. "Leaving so soon?" the host asked with a smirk. I glared at him and began walking out the door.

Then I saw Roger walking towards me. All the anger flooded away as he came towards me. "Mark, I'm sorry I'm late," he told me, but didn't give an explanation. I looked at him, and he seemed pretty normal. Relief filled me as I realized that he wasn't high right now. Then some hope filled me. Maybe he would never be again.

"Here," I said, "We can sit over here." And I showed him to the table I was sitting at before. We both sat down and stared at each other. That was when it hit me. I was so worked up about seeing him and excited that I had forgot the whole reason this was going on, his clothes. They were still there sitting on the towel rack, soaked and dripping.

"I brought you these," he said, pulling up a plastic bag from his seat that was obviously filled with my clothes.

My face immediately flushed red. "I'm sorry," I told him. "I kind of forgot yours." But then something made me feel better, he laughed, a truly amazing sound. There was a smile on his face now, something that I hadn't seen the whole time he was at my house. There was only tears then, and that was when I realized that I wanted to know what happened. "So I don't mean to sound nosey," I went on, although I really did want to know, "But what was the other day about?"

He looked down at the table which was something I remember him always doing when he was ashamed about something. Then he took a deep breath and began to speak in his amazing voice. "On my way here, I tried to come up with a thousand excuses about coming over like that. I couldn't think of a good lie," he said and looked up at me. His smile was gone now, and he was serious. "The truth is," he went on, speaking softly, "A friend of mine just passed away and I just had this feeling that you would be there for me, and I guess I wasn't wrong, was I?"

Why couldn't he just tell me before? There was no way that I could be mad about something like that. "I'm always going to be here for you," I told him without even thinking about it, but what was there to think about? It was the truth. I never wanted anything bad to happen to him and if I could help him in anyway possible, then I would.

"You were always such a good person," he said, and that last sentence changed the whole conversation. We weren't talking about the present anymore, and that little _were _brought us back to the past. It hurt a little to talk about that, but it felt a little better since it was with someone who was there and I cared about so much. "And I'm sorry about everything," he said.

"The other night didn't matter. You don't have to be sorry," I told him truthfully like I had on the phone.

He folded his hands on the top of the table and looked me straight in the eye. "No, Mark. I mean, I'm sorry that I hurt you so long ago. I'm sorry that I let all those things go on that shouldn't've. And I'm sorry that I left you. Sometimes I think that that was the worst mistake of my life," he told me and it hit me hard. So much truth was poured into those words that it was hard to understand. But this was the Roger that I fell in love with so long ago. The sweet, truthfully Roger.

But I was speechless and no words would came to my mouth. I just stared at him and he stared back and for a moment, we were teenagers again lost in a sweet puppy love. "I missed you so much," he said softly looking down again, ashamed and probably hurt. Without really knowing it, it coming so naturally, I reached my hand across the table and placed mine on top of his. That simple touch of compassion sent tingles through my body and I couldn't help but smile. He looked up at me and smiled too.

In that place and time, everything seemed so perfect. My heart was beating rapidly just liked I loved it and I was glad that it was Roger who was making me feel this way. It had been so long that I had this feeling and I was just happy that it was finally happening to me again. So long that I've waited for this and it was so much better than I expected and remembered. It was perfect in every way.

"So how have you been?" Roger asked his voice singing in my ears as it always did.

That was a hard question to answer though. The feelings that had been going on lately were so much more complicated than just a simple one word answer, but I settled for one anyways. "Good. And you?" Then I silently beat myself up for saying that. Obviously he wasn't doing good if he was crying on my shoulder and his friend just passed away. Then I began to wonder something more, who was his friend? Boyfriend? I flinched at those words. I had never really thought about Roger being with someone else until this point. And then I remembered something, I was with someone else. But for some reason, I couldn't pull my hand away.

"I'm okay," he said, simply.

"So what have you been doing these days?" I asked, trying to get on the track of telling whether or not he was with someone. But he couldn't be if he was letting me hold his hand, but then again, that was exactly what I was doing. Guilt rushed through me as I thought about that. I had specifically told Collins that that wouldn't happen, but here I was, doing it. But was holding hands really cheating? Well if it gave me this kind of feeling, than it must be.

"Nothing really. Just been here and there," he said, also simply, which didn't answer my question at all.

I chuckled at him. "I have no idea what that all means," I told him and he chuckled back.

"Well, I don't really have a place that I stay like your apartment or anything. Just kind of with friends and stuff. Who do you live with anyways?" and that question was hard to answer to. Do I tell him that I'm staying with Maureen, my girlfriend, or do I just let that slip and not say anything about her at all.

I decided that I would be truthfully. Lying wasn't my favorite thing to do. "Maureen and I share the apartment," I told him waiting to see what he thought of that. A weird smile came to his face.

"Maureen, huh?" he asked. "What's she been up to?"

"Basically just the same as me. Working. School. And that's about it," I told him truthfully realizing how lame my life really sounded. I hadn't been much of a person for adventure and that was obvious. Roger was really the only one that used to put a lot of excitement in my life. He did a lot of things for me, with me. It was amazing remembering it all.

"School," he repeated. "Why the hell would you want to go there?" he asked laughing, bringing back the old Roger, the one I was remembering before. "What are you going for anyways?" he asked.

"Just film stuff," I told him.

"You always did have that camera attached to your hip," he said, and we both laughed. That was true. I took a lot of videos and pictures in high school and I began to wonder where they all went. Why hadn't I looked at those in so long? I missed them. I suppose because it still hurt to see Roger's face, but now it was okay. I made a mental note to find those soon.

"So I take your not going to school," I said with a smile, but then thinking about everything else that had been running through my mind before while I was waiting for. "Can I ask you a question?" I asked, not sure of why I even said that or why I was going to bring this up. I guess I just had to know the truth, even if it was what I didn't want to hear. But he nodded anyways, and the words spilled out. "Are you still doing drugs?"

A surprised look filled his face. "Are you seriously asking me that?" he replied. Of course I was seriously asking him that. I needed to know. If he was doing all those things again, I didn't want to sit here and fall in love with him all over again. Actually, I never fell out of love. Would I ever? Even if he did these things, I would still love him and it killed me to say that. I nodded yes to him, and he stared at me blankly. "Does it fucking matter?" he asked, pulling his hand away, and with that simple gesture everything in my body shut down.

He didn't want to hold my hand anymore. He was mad now, and I was too. That answered my question obviously with a yes. "Why are you still hurting yourself?" I asked truly wondering. I hadn't really understood why he went through all that in the first place. It didn't help him. It only made him sick and that was the last thing I wanted to see in him.

And then I remembered that he wasn't just hurting himself with the drugs, the scars on his arms were from something much more than just that. My thoughts were interrupted by his voice. "God, Mark. We're not together anymore. You shouldn't care," he told me, but there was no way that I could just not care. If anything, I cared about him more than anyone, more than myself. I just stared at him hurt. He got up then, and began walking. "I'm not going through this all over again. You haven't changed at all," he said.

I stood up quickly. Letting him leave, especially like this, was definitely not how I wanted this to end. Actually, I didn't want this to end at all. "Roger, how can I not care about you?" I asked him walking towards him. I grabbed his hand in mine and turned him around. His eyes were watering and the last thing I wanted to do was make him cry.

"Leave me alone," he whispered and walked again.

"Roger!" I yelled after him. The host turned to me, anger in his eyes. Great, another thing for him to hate me for. But that didn't matter. What mattered was going after Roger and stopping him from leaving my life, again. I caught up to him again, doing the same thing as I had before. He stared at me confused and angry. "Roger," I said softly, speaking from my heart, "I care about you so much. I always have and I always will. Please don't walk away like this. I don't want it to end," I told him.

He stared at me with intensely. He obviously didn't know what to do. "Mark, there is something that I should tell you," he said, but I didn't bother listening to him. I threw myself at him, his lips touching mine. Every piece of life that I had been missing was here with us at that moment. He was hesitant at first, but then let me take over. It had been so long and I had forgotten how amazing his lips tasted. He pulled away quickly,"I don't want this to end either," he said softly, with a smile on his face. "Tomorrow," he went on, "Do you have any plans?"

I shook my head and threw myself at him again. I thought the simple touch of our hands were amazing, but this was incredible. Better than anything that I had felt for so long. I didn't want this to end. But it did. Roger had to go somewhere and it was time that I got back home anyways.

I should've been walking home confused and guilty. I should've felt terrible for doing this to Maureen. I should've never done it in the first place. I should've never...

But I did anyways, and the truth was, I was glad that I had. It was something that I had been missing for so long, and exactly what I wanted. How could I want anything else? Even if we did fight a lot, and almost fought today, it was all worth it to taste his lips again.

After all, that was all I had wanted for five hopeless years.

**A/N: **Okay. The ending was kind of abrupt, with I didn't like, but I'm too lazy to fix it now. Not much slash here also, just a tiny bit. Next thing there is going to be some reminiscing and more slash. Good, yes? I hope so. And it's not going to be annoying dramatic/angst/wondering-ness. Enjoy.


	4. Chapter 4

_Now I'm lost in you,  
Like I always do._

-firefly.breaking benjamin.

* * *

I went home bubbly and not the least bit confused. I suppose that's how I should be, but I knew what I wanted: Roger. How could I not? The feeling he gave me was incredible and what I had been looking for for so long. Even if Maureen was my girlfriend, Roger was the one that was making me happy at this moment.

I tried not to think about that too deeply: at _this _moment. After all, it could change any second like it had so long ago when we had an actual relationship. But for some reason, there was a part of me that said that this was going to be so much better than then. It had to be.

We were teenagers then and everything seems way more complicated when you're young. I was still young, I guess, but I had matured so much. Pain will do that to you. Eventually you learn to survive. After all, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, as cliche as that is.

I was so much stronger now. I could handle this. Roger couldn't be too complicated anyway, could he? I'm sure he didn't have too many skeletons in the closet, at least I hoped not. Then I shook my head trying to clear all these thoughts. I just wanted to be happy, absorb this feeling.

I lay in bed that night, after giving Maureen a good night kiss, not feeling guilty at all. It was a bad thing what I did, and a bad thing that I would most likely be doing tomorrow too, but I could handle it all now. I was stronger, smarter. I could make it all work somehow.

My night was filled with the same dream and that was actually something I was looking forward to. It seemed so real and I guess it was what I really wanted. After all, Roger kisses had been perfect in so many ways that this kind of thing would surely be completely amazing, in every way.

After all, Roger was amazing.

I woke up, Maureen still sleeping as usual, and walked out into the living room. I wanted to go pick up the phone and call Roger, but I was too stupid to get his number yesterday, so I slouched down on the couch waiting restlessly for a call. It was boring, but I didn't mind too much, especially if I knew that I was going to hear Roger's voice.

My mind wandered over thoughts of what we used to do when we hung out. Nothing really... It sounded all too boring now. Collins and Angel would just come over or something like that and we'd hang out. We didn't really go on dates, just stayed in. But that didn't really matter. I was comfortable as long as I was with him.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for class?" I heard Maureen say. I turned around to see her walking towards the kitchen area. "And why are you sitting out here?" she asked.

Shit. She was right. I had class today. I even had work later tonight too. Well, I guess missing one day wouldn't kill me. I cringed at getting behind on class assignments. That was one thing that I absolutely hated with a passion. It made me feel stupid and it was difficult to catch up with all the things we were supposed to do for them.

I took a deep breath. Seeing Roger was worth all that. He was worth everything to me.

"Yeah. I'm going to get in the shower," I told her, but not for the reason of going to school, obviously. But that was definitely a good cover. Did I really need a cover, though? I mean, I did feel bad lying to Maureen and all, it just seems like she would hate me for this, but then again, if she found out she'd hate me even more for lying to her.

During the whole shower I thought about her and about everything I was getting myself into. It was bad to do this all, I know, but I couldn't help it. I wanted Roger, I wanted him so bad, but could I really give up Maureen for an unsure thing. Of course he said that he didn't want it to end, but how do I know that's totally true? And getting into everything we used and fighting wasn't what I wanted. But could keep going through life with Maureen, unhappy.

All of this confusion was getting to me and I just wanted to be happy and I knew that would happen by seeing Roger again, so I got dressed, and sat down to eat a quick breakfast of cereal. That was basically all we could afford right now. I hated being poor.

It was Maureen's turn for the shower now and I was thankful about that. If she were to go on about my school or work I'm not sure if I would've been able to keep lying to her. I wasn't a bad person; I hated to lie, this was just one of those things. If I lied I would hurt no one, not Maureen, not Roger.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that when the phone rang, it made me jump, but I was happy that it had. That meant that it was most likely Roger calling. I anticipated the sound of his voice as I walked towards the phone. I picked it up, and with a Hello, he began talking.

"You know what we should do?" he asked, although he didn't expect me to answer. "Go to your house," he said. There was no way that was happening if Maureen was going to be here. She'd get pissed, throw a fit, and everything would blow up in my face.

"I don't think so," I said, "There's nothing to do here," I told him trying to come up with an excuse. Well, it wasn't really much of an excuse since it was so true. We had no TV, the shittiest radio, and that's pretty much it.

"No," Roger said, his voice sweet and soft, "I mean your _house._" And then it hit me what he was talking about: _My parents'._

"Um, no thanks," I told him. That was probably the last thing I wanted to do. The only time I saw my family was on the holidays and that was enough time for me. I mean, of course I loved them, but it was very uncomfortable for me. My mom was always too happy, my dad too silent, and my brother was the most annoying fucker ever.

"Come on, Mark. Why not?" he asked, his voice pleading.

"Why the hell would you want to go there?" I asked utterly confused. Anyone in their sane mind would stay as far away from my old house as possible.

"Because I love your parents," he said, and I knew that wasn't true. "Well your mom," he corrected, and I laughed. "I actually don't think I've ever even heard your dad speak," he told me, which was all too true. Even I had forgotten what his voice sounded like, hearing him so little.

"Yeah. Can't forget my brother," I told him sarcastically. He wasn't exactly my best friend.

"Oh, defnitely. They sexy hunk," he said with a chuckle.

I made a glare although I knew that he couldn't see me. "Don't even. You're gross," I told him jokingly. He was definitely the opposite. Perfect in every way possible, and definitely not gross at all.

"So is that a yes?" he asked, although my last sentence had nothing to do with him coming over there. "I mean, it'll be fun. We can to your room and reminisce. Wouldn't that be great?" he went on. No, that would not be great. A handful of our fights, including our most devastating one, was held in my room. Would being there again bring that all back? "Please," he cried after I hadn't said anything for so long.

I sighed. I couldn't tell him no as much as I wanted to because what really mattered was making him happy, and if me seeing my horrid family would do the trick, then I would give in. "I guess so," I answered, even though it killed me. We dicussed times, meeting up, and all that stuff. But then the worst part of our conversations came up, the goodbye. I sighed, saying good bye, but being hopeful since I would soon see him.

I sat back down by my cereal and began to eat it, although it was totally saggy by now, but I didn't care. There were different things on my mind. Better things. Then Maureen walked out, smiling, and sitting next to me. She poured herself some cereal and began to eat it in silence. It was always awkward when Maureen was silent. Blabbering was how everything usually went.

I would've assumed that something was wrong with her, but she was smiling so it couldn't be too bad, could it? No, Maureen wasn't usually a sad person anyways, even when the little things were bothering her. She was much more dramatic, then sad, exaggerating over every word that she was saying, making everything out to be so much worse that it really was. At first, I found this kind of adorable, but then it just seemed to get annoying.

Don't get me wrong, Maureen is not annoying and I do find her adorable on occasion. After all, I wouldn't be with her if I hated her, but there were just the little things that bugged about a best friend. Everyone had them and they weren't really a big deal, not enough to stop being their friend at least. Then I thought about it. That was basically all Maureen and I had: a friendship. I mean, of course there were the intimate times and the sweet kisses, but nothing too over the top like love. Not that kind of connection.

Roger was only the only one I had ever had that connection with. I began to think about him... again, but Maureen's voice interupted my thoughts. "So do you just have class today, or are you working?" she asked. I wasn't sure why she was asking; she never really cared that much.

"I've got both," I told her. It wasn't a lie. After all, she didn't ask if I was going to them, just if I had them.

"Oh, that sucks," she said before slurping down the rest of the milk in her bowl. She placed it in the sink and said, "I was really hoping to go out with you. It's been so long since we didn't something fun together like that." It was true. We were way too busy with school, classes, and when we didn't have them it was just nice to sit down and relax.

"I'm sorry," I told her. Now that one was a lie, I have to admit, but I did feel bad for saying it. My consciousness has a tendency to bite me in the ass most of the time. That was why I was so surprised that I didn't feel guilty yesterday. I guess it was just because I was way too happy. Happiness was definitely not a bad thing.

"Oh well," she sighed, and walked towards the door. "Well I should get going. Work," she said rolling he eyes and headed out the door. I felt oddly relieved that she was gone. It was easier to lie to myself and say that I was doing nothing wrong when she wasn't around smiling.

I slumped around the loft for a while after that. There wasn't much to do. As I said before, we were poor and couldn't afford anything fun. Then something hit me. I was going to try and find those pictures that I used to take when I was younger with my friends and I, but I had no idea where they would be. Not the living room. Not the bed room. I looked around the loft seeing where we would store random shit: _the closet_.

I walked over to it hoping that I didn't have to scrounge around forever to find them. Of course the closet was pack full of junk that we kept for no apparent reason. I made a mental note to clean this out some day. I threw down some garbage bags, probably full of clothes, because they were on top and obviously not holding my pictures. But they must've hit a box on the top shelf because a bunch of dolls fell on my head. It hurt and I began to wonder why the fuck Maureen had these still. I never liked Barbie.

But then I looked up at the top shelf again, and saw a box. It was light when I pulled it down and I smiled as I realized what was in it. Old film rolls and pictures lay in it. _Yes_. I quickly grabbed the box, not bothering to pick up the crap on the floor, and sat on the couch and began going through them.

The first was Collins and Angel dressed up for some occasion that I didn't remember. They both looked so happy, like they were now. The next one was obviously the same night, but it was Collins and I, me standing awkwardly and scrawny next to his big bulk of a body. I was wearing a tux, and that was odd, but then I remember what this was: the prom.

That wasn't the best night. I ended up going with a girl that I barely ever talked to except every now and then in math. He name was Kim, I think, with big buck teeth that obviously weren't getting fixed by her braces. Acne had accumulated itself all over her face and her hair kind of reminded me of a rat's nest. I wasn't sure why I went with her. I guess it was because I would've felt bad saying no and would've looked like a loser going alone, even if it was with some random chick I wasn't into.

Roger wasn't there, I remembered, but then again, why would he be? He hated school and everything to do with it. It was absurd. But I guess I couldn't blame him. Our school was pretty shitty most of the time. No... he probably didn't go not because he didn't like the school, but because was too busy getting high. My face flushed red with anger, as I thought about it. I tried to push it away, reminding myself that this was going to be a good day and by flipping to the next photo.

Of course it was me with that Kim chick. I would have to burn that someday. Not only did she look bad, I had the dumbest smile on my face, obviously feeling awkward. Now, though, it just made me laugh. I really was a dork.

I flipped through the next couple, mostly just ones of Collins, Angel, Maureen, and Joanne hanging out together. That was basically all we did. Then I found one that put a grin on my face. It was Roger. It was me. It was a kiss. It was perfection.

I stared at it for a while, thinking back about how amazing that moment must've been. I didn't really remember it, but it was us, frozen in time, the way that I had wanted it to be for so long. I gently folded it a shoved in my pocket. I wanted to keep it and maybe even show Roger later. I wondered what he would think of it and if he would miss it as much as I did.

No other pictures really caught my eye. There were good ones, but nothing that I found as special as the one now stored in my pocket.

I stood up wondering what time it was and walked into the bedroom to check. It was about eleven, Roger should be here soon, and is if it were on cue, the front door knocked. I gladly walked to it, a smile on my face, and answer. Roger stood on the other side, already smiling at me. "Would you like to buy some girl scout cookies?" he asked.

I laughed. "Yeah, like any little girl in her right mind would walk into a disgusting building like this," I told him, which was most likely true.

"You ready to get going?" he asked, a little too excited. I sighed and followed him out the door.

Neither of us had a car; Roger had walked over here, from who-knows-where, and now we were on a desination to the nearest bus stop. We waited there a while, but time didn't matter as long as Roger was there. The bus finally came, we paid, and got on. We sat in the back, but I'm not sure why. But then again, where we were didn't really matter either. No... that was a lie. We were on our way to my parents house, that mattered. I flinched as I thought about it.

"Oh shut up," Roger said as if he could see right through me. This, oddly enough, made me extremely happy. We still clicked. "It's not going to be that bad," he went on, "And if we're lucky, maybe your brother got hit by a train." I chuckled at that. It was a nice image.

Finally we arrived at the bus stop closest to my house and began walking towards it. I slowed my pace as much as possible to make sure that we wouldn't get there soon. That was the last thing I wanted, but obviously not Roger. He grabbed my hand, something I had no problem with; it felt right, and practically dragged me down the sidewalk.

We reached the house and I hesitated to go in so I stood out in front of it, looking at it. It looked the same. Ugly brown siding and a hideous bright red door. But Roger wouldn't take to that. He pulled me again, up the front steps. I wasn't bothered by holding his hands, my family knew that I was bisexual, but for some reason Roger pulled away and knocked on the door.

It took a while for someone to answer. My mother was most likely too busy cooking lunch and my dad too busy reading the paper or something. My brother was much too lazy to get up although he was probably only feet away on the couch. Finally, my brother opened the door. "Yeah?" he asked like I wasn't aloud to come to my own house.

"Who is it?" I heard my mother call, most likely from the kitchen. My brother pulled the door open wider so she could see, and then he walked away. My mother's eyes lit up as she basically ran to me. Instantly, I was wrapped up in a hug. She held tight, but I turned to see Roger smirking. He loved me feeling tortured by my family, didn't he?

"What are you doing here with...?" she asked, stopping to stare at Roger. She narrowed her eyes, really looking at him, then a smile set on her face and before he could protest, she had him tight in a hug too. He smiled awkwardly and I had to laugh. He really was adorable.

After she let go, I said, "We just stopped to say hello."

A confused look surfaced on my mother's face. "But you never do that," she comment, and I felt guilty. That was true. "But that doesn't matter," she said, her smiling resurfacing, "I just finished lunch. Come, eat." Then she pulled us through the living room to the kitchen and set some soup and grilled cheese sandwiches in front of us.

We ate with little conversation, which surprisingly didn't feel awkward. For some reason it seemed comfortable coming back here again and eating my mother's home made food. I'm sure Roger liked it too. He never seemed to take a breath as he stuffed the food down his throat. It made me laugh.

Soon enough we were finished eating. I was full half way through and what I didn't eat, Roger finished up. He must've been hungry. "So what are you boys planning today?" my mother asked, sitting down at the table next to us. "Anything exciting?" she asked.

I actually had no idea what were doing today. This was as far as Roger's plan went for me. "Oh, probably just walking around trying to find something to entertain us," Roger said, and that idea seemed just fine with me. Walking sounds boring, but if it was going to be with Roger, how could it be?

"That sounds fun..." she said, standing back up. "Well, it's nice that you boys came over. Feel free to stay over night if you want. You can share Mark's old room. We've kept it the same all these years," she told us, even though I doubted that would happen. What would Maureen think then?

"That sounds nice," Roger replied to my surprise. Was he really interested in staying over night here... with me? A smile came to my face as I turned to look at him. He was also smiling. "Well, thank you for all this Mrs. Cohen. I think Mark and I are just going to watch some t.v. or something now," he told her. She grinned at him and he grinned back. He had this charm about him and it seemed to affect everyone.

We picked up our bowls and threw them in the sink. I followed Roger and sat next to him on the couch. My brother turned and stared at us like we were interrupting his t.v. time. "So are you fags still together?" he asked, and I turned to glare at him. He had always been an asshole. "Wait," he said, a smirk filling his face, "I thought you were fucking that Maureen chick."

My glare got deeper. Roger had no idea about any of this stuff with Maureen. It was better he didn't know. But as I was glaring at my brother, Roger turned and stared at me with confusion. "Are you really?" he asked, half confused, half amused like it was hard to believe.

I just scoffed. That wasn't exactly saying if it were true or not, but I kind of used my body language to say that it was a lie. Was that a bad thing? "We should just go..." I said, standing up and sighing.

"Okay," Roger said and the two of us walked out the door. I didn't know where we were going, but I began walking down the sidewalk anyways, hoping that Roger would forget about the whole Maureen thing. "I have an idea," he told me with a smile. This made me feel better. "Close your eyes," he told me.

"No way," I said. Maybe this wasn't making me feel better.

"Come on, Mark. I have a surprise," he told me, staring into my eyes. "Please," he begged.

"I don't like surprises," I lied. Anything from him was bound to be great.

"You suck," he pouted. I have to admit, the look on his face was completely adorable and I just had to smile at him.

"Okay, okay. But you have to hold my hands or I'll run into stuff," I told him, with a smile. His hands reached out and touched mine. They were soft, gentle, and just perfect. Walking down the sidewalk like this was how I definitely wanted it to be, except it might be better if I could see. "So what it is it anyways?" I asked.

"It's a surprise. I can't tell you, or I'd give it away," he answered and I could here the smile in his voice. It all sounded childish, but it was extremely cute. "Now, come here," he said, pulling me closer to him, "I have to spin you around so you don't know what way we're going." Then he took his hands and began to twist me around and instantly I got dizzy. Roger just laughed at me, holding my hands tightly, and pulling me in the right direction.

We walked for a while, talking about this and that, but I wouldn't bring anything up that I really wanted to know about. His past relationships; those would probably kill me, who had passed away; I didn't want to bring back bad memories, and most of the all, the drugs; that was the scariest. But I held it all back, and tried to have a good time.

We took a couple turns here and there. I had lived in this neighborhood forever, yet I still had no idea which way we were headed. Finally, Roger's voice lifted and he told me we had reached our destination. "Are you ready?" he asked. "You can open your eyes if you want."

I did open them then, and instantly I knew where we were. It was the park, the amazing park, where we had shared our first real date. Memories of cuddling and kissing hit me hard and a smile took over my whole face. Before I knew it, tears of happiness were coming down my cheek. It seemed like a bit much, but I couldn't help it. This was all too incredible.

"Mark, what's wrong?" Roger asked concerned. He was taking this all the wrong way, but still I couldn't speak; I was way too caught up in this feeling. Memories, the good ones, were here and they were the perfect ones that I loved to remember. That was one of they happiest days of my life.

"Nothing," I finally whispered, turning my face away from the park and to Roger. He was still concerned, but then grinned, seeing the smile on my face. "Absolutely nothing is wrong," I told him again. His smile grew and he leaned into me. It wasn't a big kiss, a peck on the cheek, but it was still amazing, making my body tremble.

"Come on," he said, when he pulled away. "Let me push you on the swings." He brought me over to the swing and instantaly I felt like I was flying. Laughter began to fill the air between the two us bring back my childhood and happiness that I had wanted to feel for so long.

It was getting hot outside and it was obvious that he was sweating. He threw off his jacket and that was okay with me. A wifebeater clung to his body just right, showing off his perfect abs and amazing arms. He looked amazing as he always did, and I was beginning to like it even more.

Eventually Roger slowed me down and wrapped his arms around me. His body was tight and close to me. It was comfortable and nice. "So how are you feeling?" he asked, as he kissed the my cheek agian. It was sweet, but he didn't let up. His kisses trailed the side of my face over and over again until soon enough he was kissing the side of my mouth.

"The best I've ever felt," I told him, kissing him softly back. The taste of his lips was just like before. Nothing was going to change with this and that was fine with me. His lips were just like I liked them, soft but firm, and pressed up against mine. His arms wrapped tighter around mine as his tongue trailed my mouth sweetly.

"So that's a good thing, right?" he asked. I pulled his hands up to my lips and kissed them softly the way he used to do with me when we were together. That was when I noticed the scars on his wrists again. It was obvious that he noticed; he turned his head away quickly when I stopped kissing him.

"Roger..." I said softly, trailing off. How would you even begin discussing something like this? Should I even try? Bringing back bad memories was not what this day was about. It was for something so much more, something so much better, something we both seemed to need so greatly.

He sat down on the sand under the swing and clutched his hands around my waist, pulling me down on top of him. I turned over so I was softly resting on his body. I tried to lighten myself with a smile, but it was way to hard. I was much too concerned about all this.

"Mark, can I asked you something?" he said, pulling my hands so that they would be wrapped around his neck. Then he placed them on the small of my back, gently.

I nodded slightly, becoming uncomfortable with the new turn of conversation. "Anything," I told him, although I was scared of what I might hear.

"Have you ever lost someone that you really cared about?" he questioned, softly kissing my forehead. Images of Roger leaving me flushed through my brain. Pain came along with it and I was worried about where this was all going. Who did he care about so much that led him to do this to himself?

I took a deep breath, though, and told him the truth, "You."

He smiled a bit sweetly, kissing me one more time on my forehead. "I'm sorry..." he said trailing off. "Well, I just lost one of my best friends," he went on, "And I had seen it coming for so long, but it was all still so sudden. When you lose someone you love, you don't think it'll ever go away," he said, and I could relate instantly.

"And this kind of thing... Well, when I was feeling like that, feeling like I was fading, dying, it held me here, reassuring me that I was really alive. It was the only pain I could control, the only pain that made me feel relief. It helped me a lot..." he told me, and that was something I couldn't relate to.

For so long I had thought that there was no excuse for something like this. I always thought it was so stupid, extremely foolish, but when Roger put it all this way, it sort of made sense, in a sick way. I still thought it was wrong, but I understood it still. "But you still shouldn't..." I answered him, trailing off.

"I know. I know," he sighed, pulling me tighter then. "It was dumb to do, maybe the dumbest, but now I don't think I have to do it anymore," he finished looking up at me with a grin. His teeth shimmered and I knew that I was the reason why he was okay. I was making him happy and it made me happy to make him feel that way.

Then some other thoughts came into my mind and the smile quickly faded. But there _was_ something he was doing to replace this that I knew was even dumber. Could he really be doing drugs instead of all this? He most likely was, and that was a bad thing. I would rather have him just be with me, and not hurt himself, because, after all, they were both slowly killing him.

"I'm sorry." The way he said it was so different, so hurt, and so true. I tried to understand him the best I could. Judging all these things that he did had never got me anywhere and it sure as hell didn't make him feel any better about himself and I couldn't live with myself if I made this any worse. I just wanted him to be happy, and now he seemed like he was. Maybe I wouldn't have to pressure him to stop this all; maybe he just would; maybe I was really enough this time.

"Roger," I said softly, staring straight at him. "I'm sorry," I told him, lying my head down on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, the soft beat of everything I cared about.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he said just as softly. His hand was now trailing the top of my head as he ran his fingers through my hair. Comfort overwhelmed me and nothing that was going on in my head would stop that from happening. Roger had a way about him and no matter how I was feeling, he could make it all so much better.

"Neither do you," I told him. Regret is painful which only holds you back. I couldn't regret the things that had happened with Roger any longer. They made me who I was, and frankly, I was happy with who I had become. Something so new was coming now, and regret would be no part of it. I wouldn't let pain be either.

"Mark," Roger whispered softly into my ear, "I've missed this for so long. I used to wake up, sick to my stomach of what I had done to you. You were the only thing I ever really cared about, and I just let little things get in the way. You were there for me when I needed you. I should've been there for you. Actually, I should've never let it happen in the first place.

But you're right. I'm not sorry, because maybe if all those things wouldn't've happened, I wouldn't be here holding you in my arms, and to tell the truth, that's the only thing that I have wanted in five years. I never stopped loving you," he said, his words sweet. "And now that I have you, I'm not letting you go again."

He lifted my head up so I could look into his eyes. They were so different before and the spark that they had been lacking this whole time was there, beautiful and vibrant, just like they used to be. His eyes were the things that used to keep me trapped, and I here I was, trapped in his sweet love. It seemed like every little piece of doubt, piece of pain, was gone. Roger was here. Roger loved me. I loved him.

It was the way it was meant to be.

**-Short, I know, but hopefully you liked it, yes? I love the reviews, so thank you. Next chapter: spending the night. Yay, more cuteness most likely. Hope you enjoy. **


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